The Psi Witch Chronicles: Book One
by Tonks gone Borg
Summary: Raxa Nayan, an alien witch with a special ability, travels back in time 500 years to Hogwarts to stop the massacre of her people by someone from the past! Severus/Original Character. A lot more fun than it may sound...please R/R! I've got mad writer's bl
1. Prologue

**I make no pretense as to owning any of the Harry Potter Characters (they belong to the illustrious J.K Rowling!!), but as far as Raxa Nayan and her merry band of renegades, they miiiine! Wanna use em in a fic of your own? Email me for permission: gt94@barnard.edu**  
  
  
  
I was one of the lucky ones.  
  
The people of Eyara Prime had long been ravaged by war, with neither wizard nor Muggle left unscathed. Extreme poverty and extreme fear, shared equally between both classes, have been said to have brought about a relationship between the inhabitants of my world virtually unheard of in other parts of the galaxy. But could such a peace, if one can call it that, have come by less destructive means?  
  
In my early youth, my eyes would wander from face to face as I strolled through the ruins of what was once Eyara's capitol city, and would fight back tears at the sight of those scarred far worse than I from the nuclear fallout. Then, the alarm would sound-another attack, and with it the chaos of Eyarans, scurrying like Earth rats to find shelter inside one of the few remaining bunkers. Most had already been destroyed, as had nearly everything else on the planet, including any hope of one day reaping the fruits of peace.  
  
It was on a day such as this that I was first approached by a recruitment officer from the resistance militia.  
  
"You!" He shouted to me from across the crowded bunker, pulling out a military issue wand to aid him in weaving through the distraught throng of once proud Eyarans, packed in like mere livestock. "You're a Psi Witch, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes," I replied cautiously as I telepathically scanned him. Sensing no sign of The Enemy, I continued, "I received my training at Transcendence School on Earth. But that was before the war-since then I haven't found much use for my abilities. How can one when every day is a struggle to survive, sir?"  
  
"I'll show you," he smiled, reaching a hand to my forehead, and in that moment, I saw what I was to become.  
  
I was one of the lucky ones, merely because I found a way out-or so I thought. Old battle scars were erased only long enough to be replaced by shiny, new metallic ones.  
  
"Lieutenant Raxa Nyan, let the record show that on this date you are hereby granted the Star of Eyara, the highest medal of conspicuous bravery and achievement to be awarded to one of our people."  
  
Applause. Cheering.  
  
I bowed my head slightly to allow the Military Governor to place the glorified bauble around my neck. A hunk of metal I had to slaughter thousands of sentient beings in order to obtain-I felt so proud.  
  
And yet, were it not for my deeds, the war probably would have dragged on indefinitely. On the night I received this award, a banquet was held celebrating for the first time in twenty-five years our independence from the Dark Alliance.  
  
Complacency was a familiar face for years to come, until finally it happened.  
  
Upon signing the treaty to end the war against the Dark Alliance, the government of Eyara Prime, its protectorates, and supporters had, in fact, signed its own death warrant. Any victories achieved over the past quarter of a century were revealed as hollow ones, as the nearly thirty-nine billion inhabitants of my world became enslaved as soldiers of the Dark Lord, himself.  
  
Apparently, witches and wizards whose genes contained a fully active Psi Factor were far and few between on the Alliance worlds, as a hefty price was placed upon the heads of any aberrant Eyarans not accounted for during what became known as "The Cleansing".  
  
I struggled. Ripping, tearing, and screaming; trying desperately to conjure my telekinetic abilities to set myself free as two scaly, ominous looking creatures in dark robes succeeded in tethering my futilely resistant body to a what appeared to be a crudely fashioned operating table.  
  
*The injection, * I suddenly thought to myself. *All that talk about the need to 'protect us from diseases that would be no doubt foreign to our immune systems'-diseases native to.oh.what is this planet called again? Earth? Something like that? If what was in that syringe was supposed to do anything, it was to prevent our voluntarily tapping into the part of our brains reserved for telepathic activity! *  
  
I felt a surge of electricity pulsing through my nervous system, as though I were to be punished for such a conjecture, and all went dark.  
  
Eleven years later, I was finally able to wake again as myself, and what those gathered at my bedside told me fueled the fire I would need for the journey through time I would have to make.  
  
This is my story, the story of an Eyaran who would come to be known on Earth as Roxanna Zimmer, and throughout the known universe as Freedom's Dagger. 


	2. A Year At Most

htmlbCHAPTER ONE/b/html  
  
"Are you quite sure that you are able to take on such a dangerous responsibility as this, Miss."  
  
"Zimmer," Hogwarts' newest candidate for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position replied, nodding vehemently, her mid-length blonde waves being tossed over her narrow shoulders as her unnaturally dark eyes focused on the elderly man they beheld. "Headmaster, my people are dying!"  
  
"Just as YOU may very well die in the process."  
  
"With all due respect, sir," she began, telekinetically pouring herself a cup of coffee-cream, no sugar-from the carafe on the corner table of the headmaster's office and taking a sip, "I took this job knowing that would happen one way or another."  
  
"You sound so calm about it, my dear. Very few people have I met who possess such bravery-"  
  
"It's not about bravery," her husky voice interrupted. "Listen, when I told you my people were dying, well, what I meant was that many of us, once liberated from Voldemort's army of Psi Drones, were found to be infected with a virus that attacks the body's organs one-by-one. Half of mine have already failed and I was informed by the doctors on my homeworld that replacement with artificial organs is not an option for me as the disease has already advanced to the terminal stages. The surrounding tissue is close to dead, and I was informed a short while ago that I have about a year."  
  
"I see," he conceded, turning to pace the length of his office. "And I am sorry."  
  
"I appreciate that, Headmaster Dumbledore, but I did not come here for condolences, I came here to do my people a favor. Now, if I succeed, the timeline SHOULD change, I will never have existed at this point in what I consider to be the past, and what we call on my world 'The Dark Wars' will never have occurred as far as anyone is concerned.  
  
"We believe," she continued, "that, in truth, they never should have happened."  
  
"Forgive me, Miss Zimmer, but that seems an awfully chauvinistic assertion."  
  
"To someone who doesn't know the whole story, I imagine that it would. The truth is all Eyarans are by the sheer force of genetics wizards and telepaths; however, some of us have evolved beyond this to exist somewhat out of the fabric of linear space-time. As a result, we are able to detect even the most subtle disruptions in the space-time continuum-for example, if someone from my time were to ally himself with someone from yours, thereby changing the future. In short, Headmaster, what I mean to say is the future as my people have experienced it is not the way it was supposed to happen."  
  
"And you are here on behalf of them to ensure that events unroll as they are supposed to?"  
  
"Precisely, sir."  
  
"Miss Zimmer, I will make to pretense as to knowing even a little of the nature of temporal mechanics. I am a wizard, not a rocket scientist, and I admit I have never before bothered myself with the ways muggles attempt to interpret their existence."  
  
"If you please, sir, the ways in which wizards and muggles do so are not mutually exclusive."  
  
"I am beginning to realize that. But as I was saying, I admit to being a novice, if even, when it comes to such matters and am going to leave the details in what I have no doubt are your more than capable hands. Yet, I am sorry to say the Defense Against the Dark Arts position has been filled for this term. Professor Remus Lupin has decided to return. On the other hand, I have always possessed the utmost fascination for the ways of the Psi Wizard, as they are most elusive and few-and-far-between. Thus, could I ask you to perhaps teach a course here at Hogwarts on Telekinetics?"  
  
"You could," she replied, raising an eyebrow, her interest piqued.  
  
"Or even better, I am going to appoint you as Hogwarts' first ever Defense Against the Dark Arts Program Coordinator. You will still teach Telekinetics; however, you will also be working very closely with Professors Lupin, Snape, and others in designing an interdepartmental curriculum for our fifth year students devoted to combating the dark arts."  
  
"It sounds fascinating, sir. But hopefully once I have completed my business here, the students will have no need for such a curriculum."  
  
"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded. "It is a shame that once the year is up you will be leaving us and we will have no way of remembering you. I am sure you will make quite an astounding impression on Hogwarts."  
  
"I will do my best not to disappoint you, Headmaster. Now, when do I begin and how much?" she smiled wryly.  
  
"You do not beat around the bush, do you Miss Zimmer?"  
  
"Beat around the bush, sir?"  
  
"Ah! I understand perfectly!" he chuckled lightly. "It is a human expression, Miss Zimmer."  
  
"Please! Roxanne."  
  
"Of course, Roxanne," he smiled, "to say that someone does not "beat around the bush" is to say that she makes her point directly and without preamble."  
  
"Fascinating," she muttered, her dark eyes weaving about the room somewhat confusedly. "Yet, I do not understand what "beating" or "bushes" has to do with making a point in any case. Could you explain it to me?"  
  
"Perhaps some other time, my dear. The Sorting Ceremony for the first years is to begin shortly and we must make our way to the Great Hall. You go on ahead, I have some business to take care of first, and I will join you shortly." He extended his hand, eyes warm with friendship, "I'm sure it will be a pleasure, Roxanne, having you teach here. Welcome to Hogwarts."  
  
About to accept his hand, Roxanne quickly drew back. "But sir, aren't you forgetting something?"  
  
"Oh yes! Your salary! What would you suggest?"  
  
"Fifty gold galleons an hour plus an extra one hundred a week for my services as Coordinator. Not a penny less."  
  
"Fifty galleons! My dear, even my most highest paid professors never receive more than thirty-five!"  
  
"You forget, Headmaster, that I have a serious medical condition for which I will undoubtedly be visiting the physicians in Hogsmeade at least twice a week."  
  
"Do the Hogsmeade physicians have the proper technology to care for such an ailment as yours?"  
  
"Probably not, but at this stage, even my own people don't. But I do constantly need to check on the state of my organ health, even if there is nothing to be done. If it becomes clear that the Eyaran physicians have overestimated the time I have left, someone else will be sent to replace me. I will, of course, need to have time to contact them before I expire."  
  
"I understand. Forty galleons it is, then."  
  
"Forty-five."  
  
"Forty-three, and not a penny more."  
  
"Done, Headmaster. I thank you for your time and consideration and I will see you down at the Sorting Ceremony," she finally conceded, extending a hand.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine, htmlboldProfessor/boldhtml Zimmer. I will summon a house elf to guide you down to the Great Hall."  
  
"Thank you sir," she smiled, heading for the portrait hole on the far end of the wall.  
  
"Wait!" he suddenly called after her.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Your appearance will need to be modified. I do not doubt that neither student nor staff member here has ever seen an extraterrestrial."  
  
"Of course, sir," she replied, rolling up her right sleeve and tapping a few of what Dumbledore believed must have been hidden control buttons. In seconds, her Eyaran brow furrow and nasal ridges were gone, her countenance deceptively human despite her unusually obsidian-colored eyes.  
  
"Better?" she asked, twirling about facetiously as to allow for final inspection.  
  
"I doubt even the Azkaban dementors would know the difference! See you in a bit." 


	3. What Sort of Witch Are You?

htmlbCHAPTER TWO/b/html  
  
"Why hello," Roxanna cheerfully greeted the impish creature waiting for her on the other side of the portrait hole. "And what's your name?"  
  
She bent down to extend a hand. Remembering she still wore her black gloves, standard issue among all Psi Wizards and Witches to prevent accidental telepathic scanning, and that she could not bear to anyone an ungloved hand, she quickly retracted and instead bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment.  
  
"Moby, Madam. Headmaster Dumbledore's personal house elf at your service," it replied in its characteristic high-pitched voice.  
  
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moby-"  
  
"Just Moby will suffice, thank you Madam."  
  
"And for me, Roxanna will suffice."  
  
"As you wish, Madam.er.Roxanna, Moby will do."  
  
"Now then, Moby, could you direct me to the Great Hall?"  
  
"Right this way, Roxanna," the house elf, whose gender Roxanna figured to be male, replied as he began to descend the grand staircase separating the Headmaster's wing from the rest of Hogwarts Castle.  
  
"BLOODY HELL, GODDAMMIT!" she heard someone shout from around the corner her pint-sized guide had just turned. Turning herself, she found her mouth involuntarily gaping open at what her eyes beheld.  
  
It was a man-or at least it seemed to be. On all the worlds to which she had traveled in her lifetime, she had never seen a specimen quite this large.  
  
"Fascinating," she commented, raising an eyebrow as she appraised the man's massive appearance.  
  
"An' a good day t' you too, Ma'am."  
  
"Oh, forgive me.where are my manners? It's just that I've never seen anyone quite so.well.gigantic, for lack of a better term." Smiling weakly, she extended a gloved hand, "I am Roxanna Zimmer, the new Coordinator for the Defense Against the Dark Arts program. And you are?"  
  
"Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid. Gamekeeper an' professor o' Care O' Magical Critters," he replied, his hand enveloping hers as he shook it.  
  
"Gamekeeper?" she asked, regretting she had not had time to research the recreational activities of human wizards in this region of the planet. "What sort of game do you.er.keep, sir?"  
  
"Quidditch's the game," he said, his own eyes meeting the puzzled gaze of Hogwarts' newest member of the faculty. "Ne'er heard o' it, eh? At's odd.where'd ya say you come from a' in?"  
  
Thinking quickly, she responded, "Germany." In her days as a student at Transcendence School in San Francisco, her accent had often been mistaken for that of a native German speaker. It was not until someone noticed the furrow in her brow and the ridges across the bridge of her nose that he or she realized Roxanna to be from beyond this world.  
  
"An' they don' play Quidditch in Germn'y, eh?"  
  
"Not that I've heard, at least. Instead, we play something called Katscherdorff."  
  
"Bless you."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Th' name o' that game you ment'nd. Sounded like ya sneezed."  
  
"Oh, I see. Ha! Ha!" Roxanna laughed halfheartedly, not quite understanding the joke.  
  
*Mental note to self: Brush up on specifics of Earth recreation and humor, * she thought silently.  
  
"Whar y'all headed, anyhow?"  
  
"The Great Hall, Mr. Hagrid," she replied, peering down at her watch. "Good heavens! I hope we haven't missed the Sorting Ceremony! I was so looking forward to it."  
  
"Jes' Hagrid's fine by me, and I don' think we 'ave. They alway' late with that, anyhow Dumbledore hasn' lef' 'is office yet. But I'll walk you down to the Great Hall, if ya like."  
  
"It would be a pleasure Hagrid, and please, call me Roxanna." Crouching down until she was eye level with Moby the house elf, she smiled kindly. "I think I can find my own way from here, Moby. But thank you for helping me thus far."  
  
"So kind! So kind! New Professor Roxanna actually thinks to thank Moby! You've made Moby so very happy!"  
  
"I'm glad. Now run along, dear," she said, patting him on the shoulder and returning to her conversation with Hagrid as they continued down the corridors. "Delightful creature, that house elf."  
  
"Bah! Well, I spose if'n ya think so, Xannie."  
  
"Roxanne, if you please."  
  
"At's what I said! Xannie."  
  
**********************************************  
  
Sometime later, they arrived in the Great Hall, its bewitched ceiling characteristically resembling a clear night sky.  
  
*Reminds me of Eyara Prime on a good night.a good night before the war,* Roxanna thought sadly to herself as she looked up, her eyes a mixture of excitement for her days ahead at Hogwarts and of sorrow for her fallen People.  
  
Dodging one of the many floating candles, this one obviously on a stray course, Roxanna and Hagrid reached the dais on which the faculty table was set.  
  
"At'tent'n! At'tent'n, ev'ry'un. I'd like to introduce y'all to Professor Xannie-"  
  
"Roxanna," she interrupted him.  
  
"That's what I said. Xannie," he replied, clearing his throat and proceeding in his grand introduction. "Professor Xannie Zimmer, come here all the way from Germ'ny to coord'nate the new interdepartmental Defense Agin' the Dark Arts program. Xannie, this is Professor Minerva McGonnagal."  
  
"A pleasure, Professor," Roxanna greeted the bespectacled woman, hand extended.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine, and Minerva, please," she smiled warmly, accepting Roxanna's hand in friendship.  
  
"Professor Remus Lupin, whom I sure you be workin' real close ta'."  
  
"Professor Zimmer, a pleasure," Professor Lupin nearly shouted as he excitedly grabbed hold of her hand and shook the life force almost completely from it.  
  
*Dilated pupils,* Roxanna thought to herself, not daring to probe his thoughts telepathically, for fear of what brazen images she might find. *That explains his over-enthusiasm!*  
  
"A pleasure," she replied. "And you must call me Roxanna-all of you.all of you must call me Roxanna, please."  
  
***************************************  
  
Okay people, now this is where you come in.help me figure out where to go from here, por favor! Raxa/Roxanna/Xannie (gosh she has a lot of names, eh?) is about to meet Severus.suggestions as to how to proceed would be most favorable.  
  
Live Long and Prosper :| 


End file.
